Actually, it was on a Tuesday morning, and unlike the song, it was a guy from the local council that came a’calling, and not the proverbial gas man.
The wife had gone out with her sister, and would be out for most of the day, leaving me to oversee the council guy’s visit. The local council were sending a man round to look into our request for repairs to be done in the kitchen. Even though he wouldn’t be in the house for more than a few minutes, I had to dress in normal, “vanilla”, gear, which peed me off, because though it was booked as an a.m. visit, he probably wouldn’t turn up till nearly lunch time. So I had left my rubber aprons and underpants, in the wardrobe, and wore a shirt and jeans instead.
I had breakfasted on cereal, done the dishes, waved the wife off, and was sitting playing my guitar. I had run through several scale exercises, tried a couple of new songs that I was learning to play, when I heard the strident call of the doorbell. I surmised that it must be the council guy, earlier than expected, but that was good, for it meant that I was free from then on.
I slipped my guitar back into its case, and headed for the door. As I thought, it was the man from the council, he showed me his I. D. card, and introduced himself. The man was about fifty eight, to sixty years old, and not far off the same stature as myself. Even sporting the same silver hair colour. I invited him in, and led the way, through the hallway, through the lounge, and into the kitchen. He declined my offer of coffee, and set about taking some measurements, and generally discussing the forth coming work.
As I had previously expected, this took no more than about five or so minutes. He closed his folder, put his tape measure back in to his pocket, and made to leave. I followed him, on the very short walk back to the front door, making small talk, as you do. The entrance hallway is small, with the front door about eight feet opposite the lounge door, the down stairs toilet on the right, under stairs cupboard, on the left next to the stairs. I guess the hall way is eight feet by six, so it isn’t big. But it does give us room to have a coat rack, on the wall behind the front door. It was this coat rack that stopped the man from the council in his tracks.
What he couldn’t see, as he entered the house, hanging behind the door, was my navy blue, rubber lined mackintosh. It’s always there, when not in use, left hanging, with that beautiful rubber lining exposed, ready for me to touch. With whichever part of my anatomy I choose. I wasn’t paying any attention to what he must have been looking at, i.e., my mack, and so it came from out of the blue, when he reached out, and actually touched it, as he asked, “is that rubber”?
I was gobsmacked. There was no point in lying, so I answered, “Yes, it is”.
He said, “It’s been a long time since I have seen a proper rubber mack, let alone touched one.”
Feeling a positive tingle, I asked him,
“ Would you like to try it on?’.
He checked his watch, and I could see he was trying to make a decision.
“Can I? That would be marvellous”.
“Bring it in the lounge. It should be a good fit on you”. He took off his jacket. Laid it on an armchair. He picked up the mackintosh, and held it at arm’s length, with a look of reverence on his face.
“It’s beautiful”, he said.
“How long is it since you’ve worn a rubber mack?, I asked. I took the mack from him, and held it so he could slide his shirt sleeved arms in to the rubber tunnels.
“It has been too long. You just don’t see them anymore” he replied.
I settled it around his shoulders, taking the opportunity to touch him, smoothing the garment down his body. I thought, I ought to get a job as a tailor, though I don’t think I would wear whatever I made. I started to fasten the buttons for him, starting at the top and working down. Then at the lowest button, managed to just stroke his cock area, with the back of my hand, and boy oh boy, he was hard.
I apologised. We both spoke at the same time. As I said “ Ooops, I’m sorry”. He said “That was nice”.
I could not believe my ears. I had to make a decision, fast. I made it. “Would you like me to do it again?” I asked.
“Oh, yes please.” He replied.
I knelt down in front of him. I first stroked him through the mackintosh. Then I moved my hands inside the mack, touching him on the outside of his trousers. I could feel his rock hard member as I stroked the profile of it through the material.
I told him, “It would be better with just the mack”. I didn’t wait for an answer, I moved my hands up to his belt, and fumbling a little, managed to undo it, popping the button at his waist, and sliding the zip down. I pulled the trousers down, then went back up for his shorts. I slipped them down to join his pants, gathered round his ankles. He hadn’t moved, nor spoken a word.
I undid the lower two buttons of the mack, gathered the loose material in my hands and wrapped his cock in it, gently caressing him with the rubber folds. I heard him gasp. He was in ecstacy. I continued to stroke him, but I just had to go for a full house. I slipped the end of his cock into my mouth, keeping the rubber round his balls, and around my face too. I started to rub his cock with the rubber lining, whilst still gently sucking the end. I was only too aware of the time constraints, so I kept on with the wanking, and the sucking, and it was only a couple of minutes before he came, and boy didn’t he cum. I had a moment of panic, trying to swallow it all down. He gave me several squirts. I kept on sucking right through his orgasm. I gripped his cock and stroked it upwards, to finish his orgasm, and to let the last of his semen out. He gave an involuntary spasm. I then licked his penis clean. I didn’t release him, but kept on stroking his genitals with the rubber mack, and my bare hands. He just did not want me to stop, but of course we had to. I moved my hands round to his buttocks, and stroked them with the cold rubber, before I stood up.
He looked me in the eye, and said, “That was superb. You’ve done that before.”
“Many times. But it has been a long time since the last.”
“Let me caress you.”
“You can’t have much time“ I reminded him.
“I don’t care.” He said. I want to feel your cock.”
“ O.K. You keep the mack on. There is a pair of rubber gloves in the pockets. One in each side. Use them on me.”
I soon had my jeans and underpants off. He had found the gloves in the pockets of the mack. He was surprised at these too. They are Busy Bee unlined gloves, that are marvellously smooth when turned inside out. If ever there was a garment that was made especially for us, then it is these gloves.
He held a glove in both hands, making a hammock of rubber, that he slipped under my balls. He moved it from side to side, so I got cold rubber against me, with each stroke. He then knelt down, and wrapped the glove around my cock, wanking slowly.
I told him to slip a glove over my cock, so that I could cum into it. But before he did, he took my rigid member into his mouth. With the motions of him sucking, the rubber glove playing around my balls, it was obvious that I would cum soon. He released my cock, and slipped the rubber glove over it, so it was completely covering my shaft. He wrapped his hand around it, and gently, slowly wanked me. I could feel the tension rising in my body, my orgasm arriving like an express train. My cock began to pump cum into the rubber glove. He too kept stroking me till after the sensations had subsided somewhat. Using his fingers, he massaged the head of my cock, with my cum, still inside the rubber glove, prolonging my pleasure.
He straightened his clothing, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and just said, “I,ve got to go.” I could only say “Thank you.”
“No, it’s you, I have to thank.” He said. “That was beyond my wildest dreams.”
“It couldn’t have happened, if the wife had been here, So Fortune smiled, today.”
By this time I had re-dressed. He gave my cock a squeeze. I returned the favour, and he was gone.
Yes, it has been a very long time since I have made any kind of contact, and it will probably never happen again. It was the contact that dreams are made of.

Appendix:

It was about four weeks later, when the carpenter actually came to do the job. He asked me how I had gotten on with John, the surveyor. I told him,
“fine, he was only here a few minutes. Literally in and out.”
How I would have loved to tell him just what had transpired on that Tuesday morning, when the council man came to call.

How wonderful. I found myself a guest at an elderly gentleman's house, many years ago. Noticing his coat-stand in the hallway as I entered, there hung a beautiful mackintosh. We were both slightly inebriated, so I had no hesitation in asking if I could try it on. He did some very naughty things with me that night.
Thank you for sharing that with us.

How wonderful. I found myself a guest at an elderly gentleman's house, many years ago. Noticing his coat-stand in the hallway as I entered, there hung a beautiful mackintosh. We were both slightly inebriated, so I had no hesitation in asking if I could try it on. He did some very naughty things with me that night.
Thank you for sharing that with us.

How wonderful. I found myself a guest at an elderly gentleman's house, many years ago. Noticing his coat-stand in the hallway as I entered, there hung a beautiful mackintosh. We were both slightly inebriated, so I had no hesitation in asking if I could try it on. He did some very naughty things with me that night.
Thank you for sharing that with us.